


For Want of a Cigarette

by Lucilla Darkate (lustmordred)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-22
Updated: 2012-04-22
Packaged: 2017-11-04 02:48:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/388845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lustmordred/pseuds/Lucilla%20Darkate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sirius <i>really</i> wants a fucking cigarette.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Want of a Cigarette

Snape was late back from his little Death Eater palaver.

Not that Sirius much cared. The house was a hell of a lot less depressing without him—which was saying something when the only permanent residents of 12 Grimauld Place, other than himself, were Kreacher, the insane, venomous doxies breeding in the curtains…and his _beloved_ dead mother’s screaming portrait. Snape was worse than all of them. He was worse than all of them and a bag of bogey flavored Bertie Bott Beans. He was worse than all of them _covered in the contents of_ a bag of bogey flavored Bertie Bott Beans.

Not that Sirius noticed.

Sirius was out of cigarettes and he hadn’t noticed much other than the nicotine-stained tips of his own fingers in almost a week. 

The grandfather clock in the musty old foyer _gonged_ three o’clock. It was ten ‘til midnight. 

Sirius sucked on his left index finger, and when that wasn’t enough, he chewed on the cuticle. He had it bleeding when Snape walked through the door and his mother’s portrait started shrieking.

Sirius glanced up, saw Snape, glared, and went back to studying his fingers. The right middle finger was quite brown around the nail. It looked promising.

“Silence!” Snape hissed at Mrs. Black. 

“You…you are as dirty as the lowest crawling Muggle beggar,” Mrs. Black snapped. “How _dare_ you take that tone of voice with—”

“I dare,” Snape said. “How I do it is irrelevant. Now shut up.”

“That’s my mother you’re being rude to, you know,” Sirius said conversationally. He eyed a rather large hangnail on his thumb and began chewing on it. 

Snape curled his lip at Sirius. “No, Black. That’s not your mother. That’s a painting.”

Sirius shrugged. He desperately wanted a cigarette. “I want a cigarette,” he said.

Snape smirked and came into the kitchen to sit down across from Sirius. “Dumbledore said no.”

“I don’t give a doxy’s ass what that son of a bitch said,” Sirius said petulantly. “I want a fucking cigarette.”

“Well that’s really too bad, isn’t it?” Snape said. He took out his wand and conjured a cup of tea, which he sipped while watching Sirius twitch, scratch, and chew on his fingernails. “You’re not allowed to leave, and we are not permitted to smuggle you in muggle narcotics.”

“I’m not a prisoner, Snape!” Sirius said angrily. “Not in my own house.”

Snape smiled enigmatically, said nothing, and sipped his tea.

“I want a fucking cigarette,” Sirius said yet again.

Snape continued saying nothing and went right on sipping his tea from a teacup that never seemed to empty.

“Snape,” Sirius said, a note of pleading creeping into his voice. “Please. Can’t you just—I don’t know—go to the damn supermarket for me just this once, please?”

“No.”

Sirius grumbled something which was unintelligible except for his now-familiar mantra of _I want a fucking cigarette_.

“Tell me something, Black,” Snape ventured, “just how badly do you want one of your sig-rets?”

“Bad enough, I’d suck your dick for a single drag,” Sirius quipped. 

Snape lifted one dark, eloquent brow. “Is that so?”

Sirius’ eyes widened for a moment before he decided that Snape was having him on and he snorted. “I want a fucking cigarette.”

Snape rolled his eyes and sipped his tea. “We’re back to that, are we?” he said. “And just when I thought we were getting somewhere.”

Sirius studied Snape across the table, chewing on one of his fingers. He couldn’t help envying the bastard his calm, relaxed demeanor. Even if it was a façade. At least he wasn’t shaking like a junkie in need of a serious fix.

Snape eyed him coolly and set his teacup down. It was still full to the rim. “Having second thoughts, Black?”

“I don’t believe you,” Sirius said.

“I don’t think I’ve said anything that would require you to believe me or disbelieve me,” Snape said. 

“I think you’re having me on,” Sirius said.

“Black, humor me, will you?” Snape said. “Just what exactly are you talking about?”

“You said you’d get me cigarettes if I sucked you off.”

Snape coughed. “I said no such thing,” he said, but he sounded amused.

“You did,” Sirius insisted.

“Black, I think if I said something like that, I would certainly remember it.”

Sirius started chewing on his fingernails again. 

Snape picked up his teacup and sipped, relaxing even further into his chair. He tilted his head back, sighed, and closed his eyes. He was so exhausted that the hard wood chair was as comfortable as any fine feather bed to him at the moment. He could easily drift off to sleep right there and—

“Black, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” he demanded the moment he felt hands on his thighs. His eyes snapped open and he looked down to see Sirius kneeling on the floor between his spread legs.

Sirius unfastened Snape’s trousers with shaking hands. “Giving you what you want so you’ll get me what I want,” he said.

Snape watched in a kind of strange fascination as Sirius slipped his fingers inside of his pants, took out his cock, and began caressing it to hardness. 

“What? You’re going to forcefully give me a blowjob?” Snape hissed. “Have you gone completely fucking spun?”

“Desperate times…” Sirius said, lowering his head so that his breath warmed Snape’s sensitive flesh.

Snape clenched his jaw and dug his fingers into the arm rests of his chair. Neither of them noticed the teacup shattering on the floor.

“Fine,” Snape said. “I’ll get your bloody sig-rets but—”

“But nothing,” Sirius said. “If I put your dick in my mouth, you’ll fucking well buy me an entire tobacco plantation if that’s what I want.”

“If you’ll remember, Black,” Snape said, “I didn’t ask. You got down on your knees and crawled over here all by yourself. I’ll set whatever terms I like.”

“Wanker,” Sirius said.

Snape laughed at the incongruity of that statement and reached down to thread the fingers of one hand through Sirius long hair. “I’ll get you your silly sig-rets, Black,” he murmured. Then, “Are you any good?”

Sirius looked up from his hands on Snape’s cock. “At what, exactly?”

“At this,” Snape said, gesturing to Sirius stained fingers running up and down his erect cock. “At what you’re doing right now, you idiot. Are you any good at it?”

Sirius shrugged. “What’s the difference?”

Snape snorted derisively. “No, then. Alright, get on with it, if you’re going to so I can get your sig-rets and go to bed.”

Sirius glared up at him and lowered his head to swipe his tongue over the tip of Snape’s cock. It tasted bitter, but not too bad. Maybe he could do this without being sick after all.

“Mind your teeth, Black,” Snape said.

Sirius growled low in his throat, but he said nothing and he made a mental note to be careful with his teeth. He took the head of Snape’s cock into his mouth and carefully sucked. Snape hissed and tightened his fingers in Sirius’ hair. Encouraged, Sirius took more of it into his mouth, sliding his tongue along the underside, flicking it into the little slit at the tip.

Snape’s breathing had changed slightly and Sirius glanced up to look at his face. He went still in indignation when he saw Snape looking down at him over the rim of his Reparo’d teacup.

“You’re not giving up already, are you, Black?” Snape asked. “I was just beginning to enjoy myself.”

Sirius sat back and glared at him, insulted. 

Snape smiled at him. “I suppose I should have known you’d be as worthless at this as you are at everything else.”

“You bastard,” Sirius said. 

“Actually, I’m not,” Snape said. “Though I fail to see what my parentage has to do with your inferior cock-sucking abilities.”

Sirius stood up and went around to sit back down at the table and resume chewing on his fingernails. “I want—”

“—A fucking sig-ret,” Snape finished for him. “I know.”

Sirius glared at him some more. “Now you’re not going to go get them for me, are you?”

With a sigh, Snape stood up, put his teacup on the table and fastened his trousers. He smirked down at Sirius. “I never really had much faith in your fellatio technique anyway,” he said. He reached inside his robes, took out a pack of cigarettes, and tossed them down on the table in front of Sirius.

Sirius stopped chewing on his fingernails and gaped at Snape in surprise. 

Snape grinned. “Have a good night, Black,” he said. He turned and left the room, his dark robes billowing out behind him. 

The moment he was gone, Sirius pounced on the pack of cigarettes and tore them open, half expecting the pack to be empty or full of ashes or something. He took one of the cigarettes out and sniffed it. Beautiful. 

He put it in his mouth, fumbled around in his robes for his wand so he could light it, then took a deep, deep drag. And coughed. Delicious. 

It certainly went a long way toward ridding his tongue of the taste of Snape’s dick.

Not that Sirius noticed.

  
**XXX**   



End file.
